Flight and Fight
by optigirl101
Summary: Emma is an young girl with no memory of her past, enslaved to Lord Morgarath, in the Mountains of Rain and Night. When a sudden change in circumstance forces her to flee, her life will never be the same again. Set midway through The Ruins Of Gorlan.
1. Prologue

Halt strode into the open pavilion at the centre of the Gathering Grounds. Inside the pavilion, a group of green and grey clad men sat around a table, some deep in conversation, others frantically writing on bits of parchment. A tall, sandy-haired man stood up to greet him.

"Halt, it's about time you got here," he said seriously.

"Crowley," Halt responded, acknowledging the commandant of the ranger corps. "What the devil is going on?!"

"Take a seat, and I will explain everything."

Halt walked over to the only empty seat at the table, nodding in greeting at the other rangers seated. As he watched, one of the rangers, whom he recognized as Oran, shoved a dispatch towards Crowley, who signed it hastily and handed it back to Oran. He then ran to his horse and rode out of the Gathering Grounds.

"Where's he going?" Halt asked.

"Back to his fief." When Halt gave him a questioning look, Crowley sighed, and began to explain.

"A few days ago, a party of Wargals broke through the Three Steps Pass. They overran the sentries, and then headed north."

"How many were there?" Halt interrupted.

"Only about fifty."

"So few," Halt remarked. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You have an explanation for this." It was not a question.

"Yes. I believe that, under the cover of the fight, the two Kalkara escaped from the mountains."

"The Kalkara....." Halt breathed.

"And if I'm right, it explains a lot, not the least of which is the deaths of Lord Lorriac and Lord Northolt."

"Lord Lorriac is dead?" Halt asked incredulously.

Crowley nodded. "He was found a few days ago. Dead apparently from a stroke. But reports are coming in about a large beast seen in the area."

Halt abruptly changed the topic. "Is Morgarath still in the mountains?"

"Yes, for the moment. But he's destroying our command. The Kalkara need to be stopped." Crowley paused for a moment. "Halt, I want you to take Will and another ranger. Go to the Three Steps Pass. From there, I want you to find and kill the Kalkara."

**A/N**

**Hi Everyone!**

**This is my first fanfic! Please review. I really want some feedback.**

**Also, this is just the prologue. It is just setting the scene, letting you know what is going on. Chapter 1 will get into the story that is described in the summary.  
**


	2. Chapter 1

Emma swung the axe for what felt like the millionth time that morning. Not that you could tell that it was morning. In the Mountains of Rain and Night, it was always dark and gloomy. There was precious little difference in the light all day. She paused for a moment, just to wipe the sweat from her brow. Suddenly a loud crack sounded from behind her, and a sharp pain cut across her back.

"Get back to work slave!" came the cruel voice of the overseer. Emma quickly picked up her axe and started chopping again. She flinched as she heard another crack - the overseer had whipped an unfortunate woman half-way down the row.

A dull clanging sound rang out through the valley. Emma put down her axe, and gathered up the firewood that she had cut up. As she joined the group walking back up to the castle, a hand dug into her shoulder and spun her around. Somehow managing to hold onto the firewood, she found herself looking directly into the face of the overseer, and she quickly averted her eyes, wondering what he was about to do to her.

"You were slacking off this morning," he snarled at her. Emma bit her lip to stop herself from protesting at this unfair statement. She had worked twice as hard as most of the women there. But the overseers always picked on the children, mainly because they were more defenceless than anyone else, even the women. Unfortunately for her, the overseer had seen the flash of defiance in her eyes and he promptly slapped her across the face. She staggered backwards from the force of the blow, as the overseer spoke again.

"Tomorrow, you will work harder, or I'll give you the whipping that you deserve".

She nodded mutely.

"What was that?" the overseer asked threateningly.

"Yes sir," Emma answered, not taking her eyes off the ground. She began to turn away but the overseer spoke again.

"And get a haircut! Any longer and people will start mistaking you for a girl!"

Emma's blood ran cold and it took her a moment to respond.

"Yes sir," she said before quickly turning and walking as fast as she dared towards the castle. She did not want him to see how that simple statement had inspired so much fear in her.

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Emma sprinted down a large corridor, and stopped just around the corner from a large courtyard, where about 20 boys between the ages of 12 and 15 were practising sword drills. Having only paused to unceremoniously dump the firewood on the pile and to grab a sword out of the armoury, she was barely a minute late. Unfortunately for her, the drill sergeant, Sir Govin, was notorious for humiliating and punishing late comers, even more so than Morgarath's other men. She tried to quietly slip behind everyone, but to no avail.

"Halt!" roared Sir Govin. Emma froze, and all the boys stopped, wondering who was going to be picked on this time.

"At ease!" He called again, and as they complied, he pointed at Emma.

"You boy, come here!" he yelled. Quickly, Emma walked forward to the front of the group, stopping and coming to attention just in front of Sir Govin. The drill sergeant dwarfed even the tallest boy in Emma's drill group, Mark, who was six foot tall. Emma was small and slight, and standing in front of Sir Govin, she felt like an ant standing next to a giant.

"What is your name boy?!" he said at top volume, so that the whole courtyard could hear.

"Emery, sir" she said quietly, using the name she had been going by for the past two years.

"What was that?!" he yelled at her.

"Emery, sir!" she yelled back, but after Sir Govin's roar, she sounded very quiet.

"Well, would you look at that!" he said in a mocking tone. "We have a mouse in our midst!"

Emma flushed as he and about ten of the boys laughed. Those boys were the sons of Morgarath's men, and were given much greater privileges than the other boys, who were enslaved by Morgarath.

When Sir Govin had finished laughing, he addressed Emma again.

"Why were you late?!" he roared at her.

"I was ... held up in the forest," she said, knowing that mentioning an overseer would land her in more trouble than she was in already. If he would just move on.....

"Why were you 'held up'?" he sneered at her. Emma hesitated, knowing that there was no point in lying, no matter how tempting it was.

"I was talking to an overseer," she said, inwardly bracing herself for the storm that was sure to follow.

"An overseer!" The boys sniggered as the sergeant advanced on her. It took all of Emma's self control not to take a step back.

"Late to drills - and in trouble already today," Sir Govin said, stroking the whip that was curled in his belt. "Looks like you bought yourself twice the number of lashes that you already had."

Emma turned around and faced the group of boys. Half of them were enjoying this, her humiliation and punishment. The rest of them were blank faces, a mask, not willing to show any sympathy for her in case this associated them with her. Only one face showed any outward signs of support. A boy of about 14, brown eyes almost hidden beneath a mop of dark hair. He smiled at her.

'Dan,' She thought dully, before the whip cut across her back.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!O~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

"Stop!!" A commanding voice rang through the courtyard, snapping Emma out of the trancelike state that she had been in since the whipping had begun about 5 minutes before. She looked up - and gasped. Morgarath, the lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night, and former baron of Araluen, was striding across the courtyard towards them. Morgarath was as tall as Sir Govin, but very thin, almost like a stick. Dressed entirely in black, this completely contrasted with his gaunt face and white hair and while he spoke softly, his voice rang with ice and authority. As he walked past all the boys up to Sir Govin and Emma they all dropped their eyes and bowed. Emma tried to bow, but her back hurt from the whipping, and she fell over, ending up in an unceremonious heap at Morgarath's feet. But Morgarath ignored her, and instead looked at Sir Govin.

"What were you doing to the slave?" he asked Sir Govin quietly in a voice filled with menace.

"My lord, the boy was late! As you yourself have said -," he started to explain himself, but Morgarath interrupted him.

"What I said! You would dare use my own words against me!?"

"My lord, I -"

"I am not interested in hearing your excuses, you will be punished later"

Morgarath's voice had risen, but he lowered it again and continued.

"I gave orders for no excessive whipping to be done from now on. There is a war about to commence and I need all of these boys in fighting shape if we wish to win."

He nudged Emma with his foot.

"Get up!" he said with no mercy in his voice. Quickly Emma scrambled to her feet and stood to attention, staring straight ahead, trying not to look at Morgarath.

"Look at me!" he said quietly.

Emma forced herself to look at him, and when she looked into the black pools that were his eyes, she felt like he could see into every corner of her mind, and she was terrified that he knew her secret – a secret that she knew she would pay for with her life. But the moment passed as he shifted his gaze to look at Sir Govin and spoke.

"The slave has been punished duly. Continue with your drills." And with that, Morgarath swept out of the courtyard.

**A/N**

**I will be going on holidays for 2 weeks, so I won't be able to update till then.**

**But don't let that stop you from reviewing!  
**


	3. Chapter 2

Emma was having a bad day. After her encounter with Sir Govin, he had picked on her mercilessly until the noon bell, when she was given the task of sweeping the northern wing of the castle. As if this wasn't bad enough, (the northern wing was the coldest, dampest wing of the castle and the air was stale and dank) on her way to the last session of the day, she ran into a pack of Wargals - literally. They didn't attack her, but they did growl a lot, and block her path. By the time she got past them, she was late for her next session. And because fate was out to get her, that session just happened to be drills.

"You!" Sir Govin snarled at her as she entered the courtyard. "What the hell do you think gives you the right to be late _again??!!_" In his fury at her second late entrance of the day, he had neglected to tell the other boys in the courtyard to stop their drills – except that drills would be an inaccurate description. Dueling was a better word. All the boys were divided into pairs, not by height or skill, but instead by their rank in the hierarchy of Morgarath's castle.

'_They're all getting beaten up!'_ Emma thought with horror, as she looked at the nine other slaves in the courtyard. Some of her feelings must have shown on her face, because Sir Govin turned around and yelled at the top of his voice.

"HALT!" There was silence as everyone froze, some in positions that Emma would have, under other circumstances, found funny. But not here, not today. Her eyes sought out Dan, her only friend in this barren wasteland, and at last found him near the back of the courtyard. He looked as though he had fared better than most of the other slaves, with minimal bruises on the exposed parts of his body, and no cuts that she could see. He looked up and met her eyes with a questioning gaze – a look that said 'Why are you late?'. She responded with a minute shrug of her shoulders – it didn't really matter, did it?

"Stand at attention!" Sir Govin yelled, softer now that he didn't have to compete over the sounds of wood hitting steel. Dan held her gaze as everyone stood to attention, and as Sir Govin rounded on her, his eyes changed, becoming supporting and sympathetic.

"I don't care why you were late, I don't even care if you have a signed note from Morgarath himself! I WILL NOT tolerate ANY MORE disrespect from you. Is that UNDERSTOOD!?" he roared, right in her face.

"Yyyes Sir," she stammered, quailing under his fury. On the inside, however, her mind was racing. _'What is he going to do to me?' _she thought. _'He's not allowed to have me flogged – Morgarath said so. But is he just going to do that anyway?'_

Then, to her astonishment, he smiled. "You missed out on the start of our little dueling session. It's only fair that you now have a go. In front of everyone." His smile widened into a malicious grin. And from Emma's point of view, it was the worst punishment she could receive.

He turned around and called out the biggest, meanest, and most skilled boy in the group – Jonathan. Of course, 'most skilled' wasn't really saying much. Emma's drill group was comprised of boys who, before the start of their trainings, had no idea how to hold a sword, let alone fight with on. However, the non slaves, like Jonathan, had more opportunities to practise. Jonathan's father was in charge of the day to day running of castle life, and if you didn't want to end up with the most uncomfortable jobs everyday, you didn't cross his son. But unfortunately for Emma, she really had no choice. In this situation, there was no way to win. She couldn't let herself get beaten up as badly as the other slaves – it would completely jeopardise her safety. It would only take one person to look too close, one person to notice something unusual. If that happened, she was dead.

Jonathan stood in front of her, his long wooden sword drawn. Emma clumsily drew her own, and held it awkwardly, the picture of fear and uncertainty. He smiled, and that smile seemed to say 'I am going to enjoy this'. Emma looked around, noting once again that most of the slaves had their eyes downcast. Everyone else was laughing, egging Jonathan on. All except……one. Dan was still looking at her, and his eyes were still full of sympathy. But even Dan didn't know this. Even Dan didn't know that what she could do…..or what she was about to do.

Go!" roared Sir Govin, and suddenly, the fight was underway. Jonathan immediately advanced, cutting the space between them in half, before lashing out in a side-cut at a speed that most slaves would have been hard pressed to block. Despite what she pretended to be, however, Emma was not most slaves. At a lightning quick speed, she swung her sword – and blocked his stroke! Jonathan's eyes bulged – no slave in his group should be able to do that. He withdrew, and then quickly attempted a backhand thrust. But astonishingly, Emma parried his blow again! As she backed off and began her own attack, using only basic moves, she could no longer conceal her skill. For her movements were not awkward, like that of a bumbling slave. They were graceful, smooth – the moves of an expert. As she attacked, Jonathan could barely counter her moves. In desperation, he tried the most advanced move he knew – an overhand backhand, and then, immediately afterwards, a side-cut. She blocked the overhand backhand, but wasn't prepared for the side-cut. She saw it just in time jump out of the way, and the sword missed her by a hair.

'This has gone too far,' She thought. 'I'll end this now, before things get worse.'

Emma squared up for the final attack. Jonathan was looking at her, wary, like the prey watching the predator. She sprang forward, having decided instinctually – and perhaps a little maliciously – to use his move against him. She delivered an overhand backhand, and then, at an incredible speed, swung the sword around for a sidecut. Jonathan still had his sword up, defending the first stroke, and the full force of the blow hit him in the ribs. And as he howled in pain, Emma stepped forward – and performed one final stroke.

Jonathan's sword hit the cobblestones of the courtyard.

**A/N I'm so sorry for not uploading!!!! You should hate me! But the next chapter should be up quicker next time!**

**Please, please review - i really want feedback!!!**


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